


Don't Call Me That

by deluxekyluxtrashcan (rhoen)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6151678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/deluxekyluxtrashcan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of the destruction of the Starkiller Base, Kylo struggles with his failures. Hux appears, uninvited, in his quarters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Call Me That

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr writing prompt post.
> 
> When writing this, I had it in mind that Hux likes Kylo, but just buries it under layers of hate and contempt, because this is Kylux we're talking about, and they're both dysfunctional toddlers when it comes to emotions.
> 
> Unbeta'd.
> 
> > **Do not translate or repost this fic without my permission.**. Ask if you'd like to translate it. Linking to it with a short snipped it okay though!

In the wake of the destruction of the Starkiller Base, Kylo feels like he is walking on a knife edge. Awareness of his own failure leaves him painfully afraid of making a wrong turn; of putting a foot out of place and slipping irrevocably further into disgrace. He cannot tolerate any further failure. He will not tolerate any further failure.

He's ashamed to admit it, but he's afraid. He's afraid of Snoke, afraid of the future, and afraid of himself. He doesn't understand the conflict inside himself - the never-ending turmoil that burns incessantly, threatening to consume him - and in his weakness he struggles to channel emotions as he should. His body may still be tender from the physical wounds, but it's his mind and spirit that suffer most, rendering him useless.

Alone in his quarters, he sinks to his bed, face in hands as he sighs wearily, the constant pressure needling his skin refusing to recede. There's a sense of loss he can't quite work out how to bear, and it shifts uncomfortably on his shoulders, pressing down; crushing. In a feeble attempt to rid himself of it, Kylo shucks off the uppermost layers of his clothing, carelessly dropping them on the floor. Killing Han Solo was supposed to end this. It was supposed to cut out the pain and confusion, leaving him with nothing but his clear purpose. Instead, it leaves him in free-fall, tumbling through an airless darkness that is far from meaningful or comforting.

The sounds of the door to his quarters opening reaches Kylo's ears. Only one person has the clearance to access his rooms uninvited, and the knowledge of just who is about to appear before him crushes Kylo even further. Hux. He would give anything to disappear in that moment: to avoid the impending judgement and ire.

He can't do anything, though. And Hux appears in the doorway, a sour expression on his face. His distaste for Kylo is evident in every fibre of his being; Kylo can feel it rolling off the other man in waves. He doesn't bother looking up.

He tells himself he hates the man in kind. He has nothing but contempt for the vile creature sickening the air around him with his presence, and tells himself that he delights in his suffering. He can tell Hux is suffering. He tries to enjoy it. The attempt falls flat. The loss of the Starkiller Base - Hux's life's work - threatens to crush the man, but Hux has something else to cling onto. It's a desire - a belief - that he's always had, and it's not a thing easily crushed. He holds onto it tightly, letting it sustain him. And Kylo... he both hates and admires Hux for it. Something broken but undeniable within him harbours affection and desire for the other man. Hux is nothing like him. They may as well be two different species, and Kylo hates Hux's cynicism of the Force and refusal to believe in anything not already crammed into his indoctrinated mind, but at the same time, Kylo admires him. Hux's will is strong, and clear. He holds himself in careful, tight lines, always doing what is required of him by the Order he serves. He's impressive, even to Kylo.

Kylo hates that he ever admitted that to himself. It's another weakness tearing at his side, because those he admires, Kylo seeks approval from, and he longs for affection. He wants something from Hux he will never receive: acknowledgement of his own power and usefulness, and to be seen as human and desirable.

Which will never happen.

Hux hates him. The feeling of it is nauseating, making Kylo want to shrink away; instead, he cobbles together a feeble defence, throwing a deflective wall in the way of the feeling.

"Well?" he asks, when Hux says nothing. "Have you come to gloat?"

Hux give a dry, twisted laugh, devoid of any humour. He's sneering at Kylo. "As if I would lower myself to your level of petty childishness."

He seems to be simply observing Kylo, and when he feels less like he might break apart, Kylo looks up, determined to meet Hux's gaze unflinchingly. Something twists sickeningly in his stomach. How can someone so beautiful be so cruel?

Without his mask, Kylo feels exposed, cracks starting to show even further. He hates himself for his thoughts, and his weakness. He wants to look away. He knows he can't defend himself from Hux's next attack, and he desperately needs to - not that he can sink any lower in Hux's eyes. That thought is uniquely painful, even through everything else.

"What, then?" he prods, attempting to sound agitated.

"Unfortunately, as a passenger on this ship, I am responsible for your well-being until we reach Supreme Leader's citadel and I can be rid of you. As no one else can gain access, and you hide away like a petulant child, it falls to me to ensure that you are still breathing."

"Don't call me that."

"A petulant child?" Hux looks amused. "What else am I to call you? A man?"

The scathing remark cuts to the core, and to Hux's obvious satisfaction, Kylo has to look away. The anger he feels surges, but rather than resulting in a forceful eruption, the fury of it seeps through the wound Hux has just torn in him. He doesn't have the energy to defend himself. The chance of redeeming himself under Snoke's guidance seems so remote it might as well not be there. The chance of Hux ever seeing him at all...

"I will address you as an equal when I see you as such."

It feels so final. Everything is lost to him, and Kylo falls even further into unwelcoming darkness, nothing around him offering any support. He never wanted to be loved; he wanted to be powerful. And now he has neither.

He finds that, cruelly, his desperation in that moment is for affection: for something human and comforting. He knows he will never find it.

Hux, finally, seems unsettled by Kylo's lack of venom. There's an undeniable pattern to their interactions, and both of them expect Kylo to retort. Kylo expects it, and knows he cannot manage it; Hux expects it, and is unsettled when it doesn't come.

"What, don't tell me I've hurt your feelings?"

It's said with that sickeningly cruel laugh, and Kylo is glad he's already looking away.

"Get out," he says simply. His voice sounds hollow to his own ears. It clearly alarms Hux. Everything about him tenses, freezing in alarm. He doesn't know what to do.

"I said," Kylo stands, taking a step towards Hux, "get out."

He can read Hux's surprise. He can read the other man's desire to sneer, or to hit him with another cutting remark. But Kylo's emptiness is unsettling. There's no template for this interaction. As Kylo draws nearer, he takes in details about Hux he wishes he didn't care about: the clear pale green eyes; the soft lashes and fiery hair; pale skin sickly from the lack of sunlight; the fine, appealing bone structure; and the tall, slender frame that could easily be awkward and gangly, but Hux commanded with precision and control. Even his lips, which should be shrivelled and ruined by the poison Hux spits, are delicate and inviting. Kylo feels too empty, too raw, and too torn apart with conflicting emotions in that one moment to want anything more than to be alone. He wishes he never had to know of this man.

He's aware of the fact that Hux is similarly observing him, something in his sharp gaze softened by surprise, as if he's seeing Kylo for the first time. The hatred falters, and something dangerously akin to pity flickers in Hux's awareness for the briefest of moments. Hux's lips part, words about to fall from them, not be spat out.

Kylo speaks before Hux can, longing to hear Hux speak yet too afraid of what he knows he will say.

"Go."

Silently, Hux does, leaving Kylo even more alone in his misery.


End file.
